Laurence Anyways (Dolan, 2012) is a romantic melodrama, with seductive cinematography, emotional tone, musicality and strong performances. If Romeo and Juliette had to defy the Capulets and Montagues, Laurence and Fred, during their 10-year relationship marked by Laurence’s decision to transition to a woman, have to fight with Change and Discrimination. Dolan, who is also editing the film, combines conventions of arthouse and classical cinema, with his use of cinematography, sound and editing, and composes an ode to unconditional love – or the impossibility of it. In this essay, I will discuss the use of emotional rhythm, spatial and temporal continuity, montage and elliptical editing in sequences that aim subjective representation of characters’ objectives and emotions, as well as depiction of societal pressure, within the melodrama subgenre. I will first analyse the narrative arrangement of the film and how it relates to the overall editing style, and then I will focus on two representative sequences: the carwash, where Laurence reveals a long struggle with gender identity, and the café, where Fred reacts explosively to the change in their relationship.   

The film’s narrative arrangement consists of three temporal manipulations: inverted beginning and ending, linear development throughout the rest of the story, and fragmented audio samples scattered during the film, taken from the interview that chronologically occurs at the end of the story. The audio of Laurence’s interview with a journalist opens the film, and we listen to Laurence declaring the values they are looking for in a lover, who has to “question not only the rights and the values of the marginalized, but also those of the people who claim to be normal”. A montage sequence follows after the film title, with slow-motion shots of an apartment, a door closing (a motif used by Dolan numerous times in the film), a woman leaving the building, and a series of point-of-view (POV) close-ups of people in the street staring at the woman passing by. The sequence ends with a close-up of the woman from behind, as she is turning her head to the right, just before her face is revealed, serving as hermeneutic code for the gender of the character and the main theme of the film. Chronologically this montage lies at the end of the story, and temporal continuity is broken with a cut to Laurence sitting in the same kitchen shown in the montage, 10 years earlier.

This sequence combines graphic, rhythmic and spatial dimensions of editing, with zooming and close-ups of the neighbours’ faces and reactions, rhythmic cuts to the non-diegetic music, and description of the locations of the flat and the middle/working-class neighbourhood. Are these the “normal” people that Laurence mentions at the interview? Is their judgmental staring mirrored by the camera’s POV shots? This montage not only introduces the theme of the film about discrimination and prejudice against transgender people, but also reveals part of Laurence’s understanding stance towards his peers. Truffaut suggests that “the subjective camera is the negation of subjective cinema” (Orpen, 2003: 25); does Dolan purposefully choose Laurence to align with the supposedly “normal” people with his use of POV camera? Montages like this one are used repeatedly for the entirety of the film, such as the school corridor, club, ball, Ile au Noire, and their main function is to sketch the characters’ interiority and subjective perception of reality. Other editing techniques used are the Kuleshov effect in the classroom with Laurence staring at the female students, and parallel editing during the poetry book scene. The film ends with the scene of how the two lovers met, back in 1989 – Dolan creates a connection between the beginning and the end of the relationship by the use of the butterfly symbolism – and offers an optimistic side of failed relationships: the power of happy memories.

Whether it is via cinematography, editing or music, Dolan’s main aim is to awaken and erupt emotions. Walter Murch (1995: 18) teaches us that emotion is always a priority when it comes to editing, and Pearlman (2016: 121) reminds us the importance of the exchange of emotional energy between characters and how it can be harnessed by the editor to form an effective rhythmic cause-and-effect chain. The carwash sequence uses temporal discontinuity, elliptical editing and emotional rhythm to prepare, lead and culminate towards the crucial narrative moment of Laurence revealing their decision to become a woman. The beginning of the sequence is a mix of flash-forward audio to the interview, with Laurence relating how they enjoyed cheating death underwater just before their lungs exploded, and temporally undefined visual of Laurence at a cemetery; death is employed here as a symbolic code to denote the gender transition that Laurence is going through. A J-cut to a TV commercial portraying a stereotypical old-fashioned view of a woman baking a cake follows – a cultural code and reference to a conservative society, with the pun “it’s a piece of cake” ironically winking away at the gravity of Laurence’s situation. The semantic and proairetic codes of Fred’s profession as TV director and her eager disposition to wrap, assist the narrative, imply a disinterest for her work and prepare the upcoming date. Cut to the ambiguous dark close-up of Laurence and Fred in the car, with Montreal city in the background at brighter tones, offering cognitive preparation of the location and the pending destination; Fred reveals her plan to go to New York for Laurence’s birthday, Laurence’s sudden reaction pierces Fred, and at the next cut Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliette Suite takes over the soundtrack, signalling an emotional roller-coaster for the couple.

Dolan uses elliptical editing (Bordwell and Thompson, 2020: 228) to denote the time passing during the ride, but most of all to emphasize Laurence’s psychological disturbance and Fred’s delirious rambling due to the use of cocaine. The temporal discontinuity is evidenced by the change of the diegetic songs played by the radio, as well as the exterior lighting and scenery. Fred suggests to go to a carwash and at the next cut the framing changes from close-up handheld camera to a medium two shot, with the carwash brushes washing away in the background, the machinery noise getting louder and the diegetic music culminating at the moment when Laurence explodes. Laurence never says the actual words to Fred about his decision on screen, but he repeats that he is going to die, completing the cyclical character of the sequence with the previous reference to death from Laurence’s story of his childhood. The tension is suddenly released by cutting to the exterior, with the synchronized sound of the carwash door opening, followed by Fred’s departure from the gas station.

During the whole sequence, Laurence is uneasy and reluctant to go to New York, which is emphasized by the emotional rhythm of the editing in the scene. Laurence’s “action” is the façade of their objective (Pearlman, 2016: 117): the reason for their frustration (subtext), is not the trip or the destination or even Fred’s attitude, but rather the unbearable feeling of being in a body they did not want to inhabit. Laurence’s lungs finally explode, not underwater, but in a carwash, somewhere between Montreal and New York.

Another representative sequence where the use of emotional rhythm in editing assists the description of the characters’ psychological state, shift of action, as well as the portrayal of societal pressure and discrimination, is the café scene. The sequence sets out with Fred at home in front of the Ile au Noire photograph, reassuring herself “It’s OK, its’ OK”, and cuts to an establishing shot of a busy café-restaurant. A chain of repeated cuts from Laurence to Fred is initiated, interrupted by shots of male customers who take an interest in Laurence’s appearance; here spatial continuity is preserved by the use of 180° rule and the establishing shot, whereas temporal continuity by the use of eye-tracing (Orpen, 2003: 16). A fluctuation of tension and emotional intensity for the duration of the entire scene follows, until the climax of Fred’s explosion: Fred enquiring about Laurence’s bruised face, Laurence’s apathetic reaction, Fred’s disbelief and sarcastic remarks, to a temporary release with the waitress’s arrival and Laurence’s polite attitude. The tension builds up again when Laurence confess they were fired from work, which is answered by Fred’s disappointment and Laurence’s efforts to console her by suggesting a trip to Ile au Noire – a proairetic code related to Fred’s depression. Fred’s request for more coffee reintroduces the waitress to the scene and the tension builds up once more. Did Fred desire the impeding provocation by the waitress? Does she want Laurence to evidence how their life is going to be from then on?

The waitress’s comments provoke Fred’s explosion and initiate the most intense cause-and-effect chain reaction in the film, where the number of cuts per minute increases (Murch, 1995: 69), the shots expand from the protagonists to the waitress and the customers, and the editor faithfully follows “Meyerhold’s preparation, action and recovery arc, and Stanislavki’s actions and beats” of the actors’ performances (Pearlman, 2016: 121). Matching action is preserved when Fred is smashing the plate, as well as when snapping her fingers to the waitress. Again here the subtext of Fred’s reaction is not the waitress’s judgmental comments, but the fact that she herself cannot accept Laurence as her lover anymore, and she reveals it when they exit the café: “You’ll fix me? Which one of us needs fixing?”.

Dolan’s use of the arthouse conventions of ambiguity, subjective realities, as well as his own authorial stamp, are balanced by the use of classical continuity editing, emotional rhythmic intensity building scenes and tension release subjective POV montages. As a result, he does succeed in elevating the turmoil of Laurence’s and Fred’s relationship and the excessive pressure it receives from societal stereotypes. Whether their love is going to survive or not, one thing is for sure: the emotional rhythms of editing infect the film with passion, intenseness and electrifying interaction.

Filmography

Dolan, Xavier. Laurence Anyways. 2012. Film. Canada/France: Lyla Films/MK2. 

Bibliography

Bordwell, D. and Thompson, K. (2020) ‘The Relation of Shot to Shot: Editing’, in Film Art: An Introduciton. 12th edn. New York: McGraw-Hill, pp. 216–262.

Murch, W. (1995) ‘The Rule of Six’, in In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd edn. Beverly Hills, USA: Silman-James Press, pp. 17–20.

Orpen, V. (2003) ‘Continuity Editing in Hollywood’, in Film Editing: The Art of the Expressive. London: Wallflower, pp. 16–59.

Pearlman, K. (2016) ‘Emotional Rhythm’, in Cutting Rhythms: Shaping the Film Editq. 2nd edn. USA, UK: Focal Press, pp. 11–121.